The corruption of children at the hands of adults, and the eventual liberation of those kids, is becoming a genre unto itself in modern cinema. We are meant, rightfully, to balk at the treatment of this impressionable innocents, and then marvel at or cheer on their escape/triumph. The flood of these pictures, though, is dimming their collective impact. So when it is first revealed in Partisan that the charmingly scruffy cult leader Gregori (played with charming scruffiness by Vincent Cassel) is training small children to be cold-blooded killers, the effect was worthy of more of a shrug than a gasp.
The same feeling pervades the dramatic arc of Alexander (newcomer Jeremy Chabriel). We follow him through one year of his young life in small, episodic chunks as he starts off as the model student for Gregori’s strange clan of child assassins. He shoots straight, scores high in his schoolwork and looks beatific as he drinks in the praise of his father figure. But, again, even when he puts three bullets into a lowly auto repairman for reasons never explained, it didn’t have the impact that director Ariel Kleiman and his co-screenwriter Sarah Cyngler likely wanted. If you’re a savvy enough cinephile, you’ll know that this a momentary blip in this story of Alexander’s third act moment of glory or bullet-strewn mass murder of his captor and his peers.
The more fascinating dynamic is the introduction of new children into this strange cult. Gregori’s m.o. is to find impressionable single mothers and coax them into the fold. The implication is that he usually does this in the maternity ward, but here, he brings in a mother and her older child, a seemingly autistic lad named Leo (Alex Balaganskiy). Having never grown up in this communal environment, the youngster is withdrawn and tests Gregori’s patience by speaking out during the lessons. The experience rattles Alexander and wakes the film up as we wait to find out how the cult leader will teach his young charge to toe his particular line.
As well, for all the attempted surreality of watching kids map out their routes to a hit and test their marksmanship by shooting at balloons, the ins and outs of the daily routine of this huge forced family feel more tense and disconcerting somehow. It’s the little details Kleiman injects into these scenes; like the roughly applied face paint that all the children wear during their regular karaoke parties, or Gregori giving the kids a beach day by filling up an inflatable pool for them to splash around in. And for all of the attempted surprise of showing kids wielding small pistols, the biggest shock comes from the reaction of horror and anger that Alexander’s mother gives him when he makes a purchase meant as a show of kindness toward her.
Partisan is hypnotic in spite of itself. The cinematography of Germain McMicking is a marvel of earth tones and grit that matches Gregori’s penchant for big ugly sweaters and the cracked facade of the communal courtyard where this gang eats, farms and trains. Kleiman also did a great job bringing in Daniel Lopatin (aka Oneohtrix Point Never) to handle the score, with his bleeding electronic soundscapes lending a terrifying sci-fi feel to this very earthbound film.
The acting, too, is deft and understated. Chabriel evidences a wisdom beyond his years as he slowly grows more disillusioned with his current situation. And Cassel wisely doesn’t overreach. His subtle charm makes it easy to grasp why the gaggle of children adore him and want to bask in his praise. Both men help the somewhat bland medicine of the plot go down smoothly and without incident.